


Oh, what a beautiful morning

by Atalto



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Divergence, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt!Sven, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Kissing, M/M, Romance, all of them - Freeform, birthday fic, familiy of choice, insecure Kuron, renaming, shiros birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13837971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atalto/pseuds/Atalto
Summary: Three different men wake up to their birthdays, and are greeted in three different ways.Despite everything that’s happened to them, it’s a good day.





	Oh, what a beautiful morning

**Author's Note:**

> Yeeee I’m officially in ‘life-threatening’ weather conditions according to the British government, so I spat this out, I hope y’all don’t mind.  
> I apologise for any problems, this is far from beta’d, but all the Shiro’s deserve happiness and a good birthday!

It was dark when Shiro woke up.

Well, okay, it wasn't dark. It was more the kind of dimmed navy that he associated with the mornings where he woke up before the pounding alarms. A shadowy moment of peace before the flurry of movement that the day inevitably was going to be. Keith was, by some miracle, still in bed next to him; usually the other Paladin was even worse than he was when it came to mornings, and most days could be found awake before he was. However, today, a warm arm was still slung around his middle, and he felt the rise and fall of Keith's chest against his back, the soft material of his sleep shirt as it moved against his skin. Moments like this were rare, and Shiro was loving every second of it-

  
"Hey, Takashi?" A voice whispered from behind him, croaky and rough from sleep, "you awake?"

  
"I have been for a while now," he replied with a chuckle, "what's up? You're usually up by now."

  
He felt Keith shrug, and a plaintive hum met his ears.  
"Don't you know what day it is?"

  
At that, Shiro frowned. Sure, Pidge had managed to make a calendar that linked up with the internal one on her laptop, but he didn't check it often. It tended to remind him of how much he'd missed on Earth, rather than counting down the days to their return like Lance and Hunk saw it.  
"I can't exactly say I've checked it recently," he said, rolling over in Keith's arms to face him.  
Now he could see his face, he saw Keith give him an affection roll of his eyes, before snuggling into the embrace to press a kiss to Shiro's collarbone.

  
"It's the first of March," Keith informed him, voice muffled.

  
"And?"

  
"Well, It's not a leap year this year," came the reply expectantly, "so, we decided to celebrate your birthday on March first this year."

His- His birthday?

"Keith, you know that's not-"

  
"It's not necessary, I know, you say that every year," Keith interrupted, pushing himself up the bed to look Shiro in the eye forcefully, "but we wanted to- I wanted to."

  
A calloused thumb shifted from under the blankets, moving to cup Shiro's jaw. "Happy birthday, Takashi. You deserve it."

  
A gentle kiss pressed into his lips, slow and unhurried. Keith's lips were chapped, as usual - he must have avoided Allura talking him into using that Altean lip balm again - and sure, he tasted of stale morning breath, but also of a woody musk that was so unequivocally Keith.

  
"Some present that was," Shiro joked against Keith's lips as he pulled back, wrapping his arms around his middle before dipping back in for another quick kiss.

  
Keith just smirked and rolled away from Shiro, sliding out of the bed, clicking the lights onto a dimmed glow, and stumbling over to the storage cupboards on the other side of the room. "And that's not all," he replied, opening the cupboard with a press of a button and retrieving a solid-looking package, "I got this for you as well."

  
"Keith, you didn't-"

  
"If you say that I didn't need to one more time, I will personally beat your ass at sparring tomorrow," Keith shot back, lightly hitting his head with the parcel as Shiro sat up against the pillows.  
It landed on Shiro's lap as Keith crawled back into bed next to him, lifting his arm to press himself to Shiro's side.

"So, are you gonna' open it?" Keith asked impatiently, "I wanted you to have it before everyone else came in, and you know Lance'll want you to open his first."

  
"Fine," Shiro laughed, taking the parcel and unwrapping it carefully.  
Inside was a scarf, silky and colourful in the gentle lighting; the multicoloured sections were sewn together with an almost translucent thread, and matching red and black lion patches weighted down the ends of the lightweight material.

  
"I made it," Keith suddenly explained as Shiro was running the material through his fingers, loving the soft feeling against his skin, "I- It's Altean stuff. Coran promised it's warmer than it looks."

  
"You can sew?" Shiro asked, turning to look at Keith, who was now blushing furiously.

  
"I had to learn - in the shack, I had to repair clothes and shit.”

  
Ah, that made sense.

  
Grinning, he took the scarf and wrapped it around his neck in two loose loops, feeling it slide smoothly against his skin.  
"It's wonderful," he finally said, placing a loving kiss against his bed hair, "I love it, I love you."

  
"'Love you too, Takashi," Keith murmured, leaning his head into the crook of Shiro's neck, "is it okay to let the others in now?"

"Wait, what-?"

  
"Hey guys!" Keith suddenly called, and Shiro heard the shuffling from the corridor, "You can come in now!"

  
Before Shiro had time to object, the rest of the Paladins, along with the two Alteans, crashed into the room, all shouting some variation of "happy birthday!"

  
"So, a little bird told me it was your birthday," Hunk teased, plonking himself cross-legged on the floor next to the bed, "so although I'm the only of the three kings not baring gifts, Keith told me your favourite food, so dinner's on me tonight!"

  
Keith, that sneaky, sneaky little asshole had obviously been planning this for weeks, if his knowing smirk was anything to go by.

  
"Thank you, Hunk, honestly." He leaned over, accepting a ruffle of his hair from Hunk in response, "I hope you guys don't mind mac 'n' cheese, again."

  
A laugh went around the group, a collection of snickers and snorts.  
"Be glad we all love you," Pidge joked, "otherwise you'd have a lot more objections than you actually do."

  
"Really?"

  
"Yeah, but anyway-"

  
"Hey, me first!" Lance interrupted, pushing Pidge over onto the side of the bed, "I got you an actual thing, see?" A small blue - of course it was blue - cylinder landed on the bed in front of them, and Lance pushed it over with a cat-like grin.

  
"Don't you have somewhere else to be, Lance?" Pidge taunted, obviously disgruntled from being pushed, causing Shiro to laugh as he reached to grab the item, "or rather, someone to be with?"

  
"Shut up!" Lance hissed, and Shiro felt Keith bristle next to him, "he's still asleep, so I thought I'd come and see the main birthday boy whilst he's getting some 'zees' in-"

  
"Lance?" Keith piped up next to him, folding his arms over the blankets, "focus?"

  
"Ha, sorry!"

  
Laughing under his breath, Shiro shook his head in forgiveness, tearing into the sellotape-covered parcel to reveal a few packets of a gel-like substance, and a pot. A quick unscrew of the lid revealed a white lotion, but smelt gentle, like cotton.

  
"The gel is good for scar tissue, and that stuff is a moisturiser," he heard Lance explain, "but it's specifically good for dry skin"

  
"Dry skin?"

  
Lance nodded to the elbow that was currently wrapped around Keith's shoulders, and Shiro felt it subconsciously itch.  
"I saw you scratching through your armour the other week, and I guessed it was eczema? My sister used to get flare-ups from stress, so I guessed-"

  
"Lance, it's great," Shiro cut him off gently, shooting him a grin, "you were right, it is eczema - I think - so it'll be really handy."

  
Lance replied with a bashful smile, fidgeting in his seat.  
"Do you mind if I-?"

  
"It's fine," Shiro assured with a nod, "he needs you more than I do right now."

  
"Thanks!" Pushing through the pile of Paladins again, Lance leaned over to give Shiro a quick but tight hug, before running out of the room. "Happy birthday, Shiro!"

"Well, we're going next," Pidge said confidently, as Coran's wide smile appeared over Allura's shoulder, "I hope you like this, I'm fairly sure it'll be better than-"

  
"This isn't a competition, Pidge."

"Yeah, I know, whatever," she said with a shrug, "but it's kind of a joint present."

  
"Number Five needed help with the technology," Coran added, handing him a small white memory stick that glowed with a neon blue light, "but, it's compatible with every speaker system in the castle."

  
Shiro held it up, tossing it between his fingers. "What is it-?"

  
"A kind of Altean mixtape," Pidge said, smug grin settling on her face, "Coran showed me how to stick a bunch of songs from my library on it, so it's got a ton of that weird old person music on it that you and Dad used to like."

  
Basically, it was likely he hadn't heard any of this music in years.

  
"I'll give it a listen," he assured, clutching it in his hand protectively, and he felt his face flush in gratitude once again, "thank you both, so much."

So, that only left Allura.

  
"Unfortunately, my gift wasn't exactly subtle, so I'm somewhat amazed you haven't noticed it yet," she said with a laugh, kneeling down to retrieve something from under the bed, "Keith must have done a good job at hiding it."

  
Keith, again; he must have orchestrated this entire thing, but was hiding whatever happiness he got from this plan pulling off well.  
He'd talk to him about it later, but for now, Allura seemed to have laid a long, two handed sword on the bed, lifting the solid item as if it was nothing.

  
"It's an Altean Twitzmarkel," she explained, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, "but I think it's similar to your human Zweihänders.”

  
"Can I fight with it?" Shiro asked, picking it up and instantly straining under the sheer weight of it, earning another laugh from the Princess.

  
"Obviously, but it'll take some getting used to."

The group had moved onto the bed now, and Shiro felt Keith snuggle in closer, moving to wrap one arm around his waist.  
"Guys, I-"

  
"Before you say anything self-degrading, stop," Keith said firmly, "It's your day, you deserve it."

  
"Well, It's half your day," Pidge added, "but I think Kuron'll want a new birthday fairly soon, Lance said he feels bad taking the attention away from you."

  
"Of course he does," Shiro sighed, hoping that Lance was doing what he could to remove his new twins guilt, "he shouldn't though."

  
"What do you expect?" Hunk said with a dry chuckle, "he is you, after all."

  
"Anyway," Allura butted in, silencing the others, "I believe this calls for a group hug?”

  
"Of course-" Shiro managed to get out, before a pile of people gathered in a vague attempt at a large hug.

  
The one thing he did feel though, was Keith pressing a butterfly light kiss onto his cheek.

  
"Happy birthday, Shiro."

* * *

 

It was a bit of a different story when Kuron woke up.  
First of all, Lance wasn't there, but he expected that. Pidge's calendar had been advertising Shiro's birthday all week, and he knew Lance had been worried about finding him the perfect gift. He also remembered that Keith had wanted them all to give Shiro his gifts in the morning, so that was probably where Lance was.  
With a huff, he fell back against the pillows, rolling over and tugging the now cold blankets back up to his shoulders in a feeble attempt at sleeping again.

But, if it was Shiro's birthday, did that mean it was his birthday too? He hoped it wasn't; birthdays were always big things, both on the ship and back on Earth, and he really didn't want to tread on Shiro's toes again. It was his day, not Kuron's, not really-  
He was snapped out of his thoughts by a door hissing open and shut once again, and the mattress dipped at his middle.

"Hey, Kuron, 'you awake?"

  
"Unfortunately," he replied with a dry laugh, shuffling to give his bedmate some room.

  
"Nah, that's a good thing," came the energetic reply, and Kuron opened his eyes to see Lance sat on the bed, easing himself down into the space.

  
Kuron raised an eyebrow sceptically as Lance snuggled in next to him. "Since when has waking up ever been a good thing?"

  
"Since now," Lance said with a laugh, settling back into bed as Kuron lifted an arm for him to cuddle into his side, "I can, like, cuddle you properly now, and all birthday boys deserves cuddles-"

"It's not my birthday," Kuron repeated, rolling his eyes and leaning his head into the crook of Lance's neck, "It's Shiro's birthday."

  
"And?" Lance asked, raising his eyebrows, "it can be your birthday too, people tend to have birthdays on the same day as others, ya' know."

  
Kuron huffed against Lance's skin, tossing an arm over his middle. "This is different, Lance, you wouldn't understand-"

  
"Tell me why then." Lance moved Kuron's head from his neck, looking him dead in the eye. "Explain why it's so different."

  
Kuron felt his mouth pretty much dry up.  
"Because-"

  
"Because?"

  
"Because I've taken everything from him already, he deserves, at least, this one day, and anyway, it's not even my real birthday."

  
"Oh yeah?" Lance challenged, m looking up to Kuron and rolling to rest on his chest, "when would your birthday be, then?”

  
"Well, it would probably be the day the Galra created me."

  
"No, no way." Lance shook his head angrily, glare becoming equal parts frustrated and concerned. "We're not letting them rule any part of your life anymore, remember? You're your own person, babe, not some Galra weapon, not anymore."

  
Kuron rolled his eyes, fighting back with a steely glare of his own. "Doesn't change the fact that Shiro probably doesn't want to share his birthday with a clone-"

  
"You're not a clone, _damnit_!" Lance looked almost pleading now, and Kuron felt his resolve dissolve. "You're Shiro's twin, Pidge's brother, Keith's friend, Hunk's, I don't know, taste-tester, my _boyfriend_."

  
"Okay, I get it," Kuron cut him off, running a metal hand through Lance's hair and smiling at the way he keened to the touch, "I'm sorry for-"

  
"Ah, no apologising."

  
He gave Lance a sheepish grin, getting an affectionate huff in return.

  
"Anyway, to back this up," Lance started, practically jumping out of bed despite Kuron's whine, "I spoke with the other guys about how to help you actually move on from the Galra."

"Oh, really?"

  
Lance hummed in reply, stretching to retrieve what looked like a roll of parchment from a top cupboard.  
"We made you this," he explained on his return, "It's not much, but like, we thought you'd like it."

  
"I'm sure I'll love it," Kuron replied, accepting the roll as Lance shuffled back into bed next to him.

He was right, it was a roll of parchment, brown and stained from either age or leftover teabags. At the join, it was sealed with a wax Altean crest, melted and stamped in a way that reminded him of the Hogwarts letters that his - no, Shiro's mom used to make for him.

  
"Dude, you gotta' open it if you actually want to know what it is," Lance suggested with an impatient laugh.

  
"Alright, alright, I'm getting there."

  
With a quick flick of his metallic hand, the seal popped of, allowing the paper to unfurl to reveal-

An adoption notice?

"It was my idea," Lance explained, shrugging nonchalantly, "well, mostly my idea, the others helped- Hey, why are you laughing?"

  
He really couldn't help it, laughter bubbling up from his chest and ringing around the room as he looked down at the paper.  
"The 'Voltron adoption agency'? Really?" He asked incredulously, turning to a sheepish looking Lance.

  
"Yeah, and look-" Lance pointed to a gap about halfway down the page- "there's a space for you to pick your own name and everything."

  
True to his word, there was a gap for him to write a first name, followed by 'Shirogane' in grand calligraphy.

  
"Lance, sweetheart, I love you," he started, laughter finally dying down, "but why am I picking a name?"

  
"Well, see, we've only been calling you Kuron because that's the name under which the Galra called you," Lance said, averting his eyes to play with a loose thread on the blanket, "so we thought you might want to pick your own, proper name, rather than the one the Galra gave you."

That was possibly the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him.

  
Tears began to well up in his eyes unbidden, blurring the paper, but not enough to hide the gentle placement of Lance's hand on his own shaking one. A kiss was pressed into his temple, and he felt himself lean onto Lance next to him.

  
"I can't think of a name," Kuron said, voice croaky and choked.

  
"Well, we thought this might happen," Lance said easily, using his free hand to wipe a tear off Kuron's cheek, "so I asked Shiro, and he told me that, if he ever had a brother, his mom wanted to call him Ryou.”

  
Ryou? So he'd be Ryou Shirogane instead of just Kuron?  
He mouthed the name, getting used to the feel of it in his mouth.

  
"So, Ryou, you okay with that?"

  
Kur- Ryou nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak yet.  
Lance was so good to him, almost too good.  
Two arms locked around his check, and he felt Lance pepper kisses down his cheek, his jaw, his neck.  
"Lance, I-"

  
"You don't need to say anything, we'll only tell the others when you're ready," Lance said gently, turning his head so Ryou could face him, "happy birthday, Ryou."

He pressed his lips to Ryou's, a gentle pressure rather than the passionate ones Lance loved so much, but still solid and loving.

  
"I love you, kitten," he mumbled against Lance's lips, returning the kiss before Lance pulled away.

"I love you too," Lance replied, stroking his thumb along Ryou's jawline, "but Hunk's made a cake that he wants you and Shiro to cut at the same time, and I think they're waiting for us."

Now, cake did sound good.

* * *

 

"Hey, Sven? Are you with us?"

  
There was a voice above him, somewhere, as if it was travelling through cotton wool.

  
"Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, Sven."

  
Oh yeah, there was a hand in his; he could feel the frayed edges of finger holes against his skin. He wanted to move, wanted to squeeze as hard as he could.  
He resigned himself to limply curling a finger around the hand offered.

  
"You're going great, Sven, now can you try and open your eyes?"

Open his eyes? He could do that.

Slowly, he fluttered his eyes open, wincing at the light. He saw a ceiling, plain white and sterile, and could hear the rhythmic beeping of machinery behind him. He must be in a hospital somewhere, no doubt about it, but why?  
Then a stabbing pain erupted in his chest, sharp and flaring, and he remembered exactly why he was here. Of course, he'd taken that Gladiator shot for the paladin, the blue one with the pretty eyes and the ringing laugh.

"Here, let me help you," the voice from the end of the bed called as Sven struggled to sit up, and a figure appeared in his eyesight.

"Lance?"

  
"Almost," the figure said with a chuckle, easing him forwards and supporting him with an extra pillow, "how are you feeling?"

  
"Like I've been eaten by a snarflax and shat back out again," he admitted with a dry laugh, "Isamu? How long have I been out?"

  
"About a week," Isamu replied, perching on the bed next to him, "but really, it should have been longer, with the amount of painkillers Slav pumped into ya'."

"Quiznak." He pushed himself into a more comfortable position, but Isamu's hands appeared to help him. "Where's the others?"

  
Isamu shrugged. "Well, you've just missed Romelle, she's going off on a deep cover for a movement or two, but other than her, I don't know.”

  
"Well, at least you're here," Sven said with a chuckle, "don't know what I'd do without you sometimes."

Isamu just grimaced, and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I just wanna' know what happened out there," he asked, face twisting, "I send you off with Slav on one recon mission and the next thing I know, he's dragging you bleeding down the hallways, screaming about something called, I don't know, Volran?”

  
"Voltron," Sven weakly corrected, coughing slightly but covering it with his hand, "and we encountered an Altean Division just as we thought we'd secured the ship, along with some rebellion group from another reality."

  
"Hey, don't strain yourself," Isamu interrupted, "we can talk about this later, don't worry."

  
"But, we lost the comet-"

  
"That's okay, Sven, chill," Isamu assured, moving one of his hands back on top of Svens, "you're safe, that's all that matters."  
Sven just resigned himself to frowning at the starched sheets.

"But hey," Isamu perked up again, breaking the silence with a bright grin, "you woke up on the best day of the year!"

  
"Did I now?" Sven asked sarcastically, "what, have the Alteans finally given up?"

  
"Okay, so maybe not the best day,” Isamu conceded with a laugh, “but certainly a good day.”

  
“Why?”

  
A light punch landed on his upper arm, before Isamu ruffled his hair. “Your birthday, dumbass.”

  
“Gee, wow,” Sven joked, rolling his eyes as best he could without flaring a headache, “another year down the drain.”

  
“Dude, don’t say that,” Isamu shot back, frowning down at Sven, “It’s your birthday, it’s special.”

  
That was when a rectangle of paper appeared on Sven’s lap.  
“It’s a card, if you can believe it,” Isamu explained as Sven held the item up to the light, “we all signed it, thought it would be nice for you to wake up to, so open it!”

Open the card? He could just about do that.

Sceptically, he ripped through the top of the envelope, tugging the card out from its position inside. Sure enough, everyone had signed it, from Tsuyoshi’s mechanics scrawl to Romelle’s elegant cursive, Hiroshi’s scribbled chicken scratch against Akira’s hasty print.  
But there was one name missing.

“Why haven’t you signed this?”  
Instead of an answer, Isamu just laughed, face crinkling before turning back to Sven.

  
“Because I actually went out of my way to get you a gift,” he bragged, folding his arms proudly.

  
“Oh yeah?”

  
“Yeah.” He nodded, and leaned over Sven. “But you’re gonna’ need to close your eyes.”  
Sven slipped his eyes shut, laughing slightly hysterically; trust Isamu to go all extra with a surprise gift.

Then a pair of lips, slightly parted and soft, warm, connected with his, just for a moment.

“Happy Birthday, Sven, I’m glad you’re okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading guys!  
> I hope it was okay for y’all  
> (Also this is my first time actually writing Sheith dear lord, how has it taken me this long)
> 
> And yes, Kuron deserves Love and protection.
> 
> Kudos/Comments let the Shiro’s have good days!


End file.
